


The Broken Man

by Durendal



Series: Kelborn and Cadets [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Republic Commando Series - Karen Traviss
Genre: A psychotic child snatcher with dangerous mood swings, Bad Parenting, Because that's what Munin Skirata was, Child snatching, Clone Commandos, Cuy'val Dar, Gen, Mandalorians - Freeform, Violence against teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 18:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4070494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Durendal/pseuds/Durendal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ambu Kelborn walks in on Ordo bullying young Boba Fett, Kelborn confronts Kal Skirata on the Null's behaviour and Skirata's own past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Broken Man

Kamino

24 BBY

Ambu Kelborn strode down the sterile white hallways of Kamino, a towel flung over one shoulder. For once, he was not clad from head to toe in a set of green-and-white, durasteel beskar’gam. The clone soldiers he passed on the way to the communal refreshers seemed shocked by the sight of a member of the Cuy’val Dar out of armour. Hardly surprising, since none of the other Mandalorian members seemed to ever take them off. Kelborn believed that they never did, it would probably explain why they all smelled as bad as they did. Unlike them, however, he believed in actually bathing. 

He paused as he walked by the door to the refreshers. He wasn’t certain, but he thought he had heard something, a struggle? Kelborn frowned, fights between the cadets were common, usually they were just releasing pent up aggression, but sometimes they were more serious. Certain cadets, like the ones trained by Dred Priest, Isabet Reau and of course, Skirata, were more prone to violent outbursts and could seriously injure the other cadets. Sighing in exasperation, he opened the door and stepped into the refresher.

Kelborn saw one of the older cadets was holding the head of a younger boy down the toilet. Anger swelled up with Kelborn and he rushed forward, violently grabbing the cadet, pulling him back and slamming him into the wall. The cadet’s eyes widened in alarm at the sudden attack. Kelborn’s eyes narrowed as he realised who he had grabbed. It was Ordo, there was no mistaking the physique, even by commando standards, his muscles were large and well developed. Kelborn glowered at him, finding his behaviour appalling. Close by, the boy had pulled his head out of the lavatory and was coughing loudly, trying to pull air into his lungs. 

“You alright, cadet?” Kelborn shouted out to the boy, not taking his gaze off of Ordo.

“I-I’m not a cadet, I-I-I…” The boy stammered, staring at Ordo with wide, fearful eyes.

Kelborn stole a glance at the boy and felt as if the bottom of his stomach had vanished. Oh, fierfek, he thought, realising that the boy was indeed not a cadet, it was Jango’s son, Boba. There was no mistaking him, his hair was longer than the cadets, having not had it shaved down, and he was not wearing the standard uniforms of the cadets. 

Kelborn turned his attention back to Ordo “Alright, you little osik-stain, you tell me what this was about, right now!” He finished his sentence by pulling Ordo back and shoving him back into the wall again.

Ordo scowled at him, but remained tight-lipped. Kelborn exhaled, swung his arm back and punched Ordo in the stomach with all of his strength. Ordo let out a gasp of air and spittle, his eyes bulging wide in their sockets. Nearby, Boba flinched. 

“You know, N-11, I could do this all day, this is very therapeutic for me,” Kelborn said, meaning it. After seeing Ordo and his brothers run wild about Kamino for years, shooting at technicians, stealing equipment and disrupting lessons, punishing the brat felt very cathartic. 

“My name is Ordo!” The Null spat, his eyes full of anger.

“No, no you don’t deserve that name!” Kelborn snapped, shoving Ordo roughly again “Canderous Ordo would be ashamed to know that he’d been named after a psychotic, whiny little thug like you! Fierfek, I think he’d be ashamed of the state of the Mandalorians as a whole these days! Despite how much Skirata preaches about how great our culture is, we’ve become stagnant and pathetic! Nowadays, we hold petty grudges when in days past, we would respect stronger opponents. When a Jedi beat us, we’d be proud that we lost to such a skilled warrior, now we just whine about how horrible they are! So no, N-11, you do not get to profane Canderous Ordo’s name! Now, you tell me, N-11, why did you feel the need to assault the kid?!” 

Ordo bared his teeth at Kelborn and growled, before he started to struggle, trying to worm his way out of Kelborn’s grip. In response, Kelborn tilted his head down, clenched his teeth, stiffened his neck muscles and head-butted him. The blow struck Ordo right in the nose, and Kelborn was satisfied to hear a wet, meaty crunch. He might not have broken Ordo’s nose, but he had at least done some damage. To his credit, Ordo did not howl or cry out, instead he let out a stifled noise and scrunched his eyes up. From the sidelines, Boba watched on in fascinated horror. 

Blood now coated Kelborn’s face, and he tried to shake it off, sending smatterings of blood flying through the air, striking the floors, the walls, and Ordo. Abruptly, Kelborn twisted Ordo around and pulled his arm roughly behind him, making the young man cry out in pain “You know, maybe I could try breaking the other arm?”

“I did it because he said that Jango could beat up Kal’buir!” Ordo spat, his words filled with venom.

Kelborn felt his jaw drop and stared at Ordo with wide, disbelieving eyes “You attacked him because he said…?”

All at once, a terrible fury surged into Kelborn, and he saw only red. 

“You vile! Pathetic! Psychotic! Disgrace!” Kelborn screamed, punctuating each word with a punch to Ordo’s body. 

He was dimly aware of Ordo crying out in pain and Boba shouting in alarm, but it was as if he was hearing it from a great distance. As quickly as his rage had come over him, it just as quickly vanished, and Kelborn saw himself standing over the bruised, beaten and bloody form of Ordo Skirata. The boy was conscious, but barely, and he peered up at Kelborn with one eye, the other was closed shut and the skin around it was rapidly swelling. Kelborn turned and saw Boba huddling in the stall, shivering in fear. 

“Go back to your dad, kid, I’ll make sure this trash doesn’t pull a stunt like this again,” Kelborn said, glaring vibrodaggers at Ordo.

Boba nodded briefly, before standing up and sprinting out of the room as fast as he could. Kelborn knelt down to Ordo’s level, their eyes locked. 

“You’re twice his age and size, you pathetic little worm. I expect this kind of behaviour from an actual eight-year old, not a trained soldier who’s physically and mentally sixteen! Despite the way Skirata coddles you, you are not a child!” Kelborn spat, his voice filled with venom. 

“So…” Ordo began, before pausing to spit out a mouthful of blood on Kelborn’s boots “What…now?” 

“Now?” Kelborn repeated, standing up “Now we take you back to your daddy, and I expect he’ll bluster and rage at me, while ignoring the fact that you were attacking young Boba. That’ll be fun.”

And at that, he hauled Ordo to his feet, wrapped Ordo’s arm around his shoulder and hauled him away.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

As Kelborn expected, Skirata was none too pleased, to put it mildly. 

“You’ve gone too far this time, shabuir! You could have killed him!” Skirata snapped, his eyes wide and full of rage. 

Kelborn stood in front of him, clad in full beskar’gam, having made a detour to his room to put it on. He knew Skirata would be wearing his, he never took it off, and Kelborn did not want to face Skirata without his. Skirata was a small man, but he was also a violent man with a dangerously short-fuse. Nearby, Mij Gilamar stood over Ordo, administering bacta to the injured cadet, who was laying on Skirata’s bunk. 

“He was shoving Boba’s head down the toilet, Skirata!” Kelborn replied, his arms crossed over his chest.

“And so you responded by beating him half to death?”

“You’ve left your shabla pack of shabuirs run around wild for too long, Skirata! He’s had this coming for a long, long time!” 

The two would have continued, had Gilamar not cleared his throat “Kal, he’s been beaten quite badly, but he’s a tough lad. He should recover in fairly rapid order, but I’ve administered some bacta to help him deal with his injuries. Luckily, this chakaar didn’t break anything,” Gilamar reported, glaring at Kelborn.

“Shut it, Gilamar!” Kelborn snapped, quickly turning to face the doctor “Don’t you have some medical droids to pocket?”

Gilamar sniffed at him, before turning to Skirata “He should be good for now, as long as he gets plenty of rest.” He nodded to Skirata, turned to glare at Kelborn again, and then departed. With Gilamar gone, Kelborn and Skirata focused their attentions back to each other.

“Ne shab'rud'ni, Kelborn!” Skirata spat, the vein on his forehead throbbing, his face bright red.

“Or what, you’ll scream at me some more?” Kelborn shot back, unimpressed.

“Don’t press me, Kelborn, I will fight back, you know that!” Skirata stepped forward, one fist raised.

“We wouldn’t fight this often if you would just control your brats!” Kelborn retorted.

“I’m just giving them some affection before we hand them over to the Jetiise!” 

“You act as if the Jedi won’t care for them. They’re more compassionate than you give them credit for, Skirata. They’ll treat them right.”

“You think the Jetiise will care for them like I can?! They’re a bunch of emotionless spoonbenders who steal children-!” Skirata began, only to be cut off by Kelborn. 

“You know that’s not how they operate!”

“They snatch babies away from their parents and indoctrinate them!” Skirata continued on, ignoring Kelborn.

“Oh, get off your high-gualama, Skirata! Or should I call you by your real name, Falin Mattran?” Kelborn asked, spitting the name out. 

Skirata recoiled as if he had been physically struck, and his eyes shot open in shock and alarm “What did you just call me?”

“Falin Mattran, the name you had before that shabla chakaar Munin Skirata snatched you up from Surcaris and stole your name and brainwashed you into being a gung-ho savage!”

“Don’t you talk about my father like that!” Skirata roared, lunging at Kelborn.

Kelborn roughly shoved him to the ground and stared down at him “Your “father” was a child snatching piece of osik, and you know what? I pity you. I pity you, Falin Mattran, because you had your childhood, your life, your name snatched away by some lunatic shabuir who decided that he wanted a kid, and the random war orphan he’d picked up from the wreckage would do. It’s no wonder you’re so damaged, so broken, anyone who’s had a life like yours would struggle to stay sane.”

“How do you know this?” Skirata asked, still on the floor, his eyes red, as if he was going to cry.

“Because my buir was with him and his raiding party when he came across you, told me all about it. He wasn’t too happy either, said Munin had you running drills and working hard. You were a seven year old kid who’d lost his parents and he did that to you,” Kelborn replied, looking at Skirata with a mix of contempt and pity.

“He made me strong! Made me Mando’ad!” Skirata cried, tears flowing from his eyes as he glared at Kelborn. 

“No, he destroyed you and rebuilt you until Falin Mattran was dead and Kal Skirata was all that remained. I can’t think of a worse fate than that,” Kelborn shook his head, as if trying to dislodge the thought from his head. 

“Don’t you pity me! Don’t you dare pity me! I am a strong, proud Mandalorian warrior!” Kelborn shouted, swinging a punch which Kelborn just stepped back from.

“No, Skirata, you’re not. You are a broken, bitter, emotionally crippled mess of a man. I am sorry, Skirata, truly I am for what that shabuir did to you. But my pity only goes so far. Keep your little brat on a short leash, because if I find out he’s attacked Boba or anyone else here, I will kill him, you have my word on that,” Kelborn said solemnly. 

“Then I’ll kill you, shabuir!” Skirata shot back.

“You can try. Now, if there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave now.” Kelborn turned and walked away. As he stepped through the door to the room, he paused and turned to Skirata “Goodbye, Falin Mattran.”

And at that, he was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Firefek: Huttese, literally means curse  
> Buir: Parent  
> Shabla: Screwed up  
> Chakaar: Scumbag, grave robber, general insult  
> Osik: Dung  
> Shabuir: Extreme insult  
> Ne shab'rud'ni: Don’t mess with me


End file.
